


Limping

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Swearing, age disparity.<br/>Summary: They're just struggling along, trying to make sense of it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limping

“Why must you take it out on me when that bloody thing puts you in a foul temper?” Severus muttered, not lifting his eyes from the paper.  
  
He wasn't reading it, but he felt he had to give the impression whilst Ron stomped around the house, steam almost billowing from his ears from the latest defeat of his team. Severus had considered burning the wireless. It was, after all, his wireless to burn. Ron didn't live in his house.  
  
 _Not yet, anyway._  
  
Batting the errant thought away, Severus turned the page to keep up the pretence. Ron gave a tut to his comment and threw himself down with spring-breaking force on the other end of the sofa.  
  
“It's just shit,” Ron threw churlishly, folding his arms over his chest. “I mean, really. There's no reason for them to play like that. _I_ sure as fuck never played like that! And they had the cheek to kick me off the team!”  
“There was no kicking involved; if I remember rightly, you went willingly with a rather large remunerations package.”  
  
Ron's hand rubbed absent-mindedly over his left knee and the injury which had caused his recent departure from the Chudley Cannons.  
  
“Fucking Sirius,” the redhead scowled. Severus smirked at his paper. “If it wasn't for him...”  
  
Severus heard the sad sigh which escaped Ron's lips. He knew the story. If Sirius had never dragged him off at the age of thirteen, never broken his leg as Ron protested, then the weakness would not have been there to have cracked his kneecap during a bad fall in a crucial league match.  
  
Ron walked with a pronounced limp.  
  
 _Even when he stomps._  
  
Finally folding up the paper, Severus chucked it onto the coffee table in front of them, and looked to his right at Ron. Something in his chest throbbed at the real misery which he saw etched across the redhead's face. Blue eyes were focussed on the offending leg, eyelashes so low they were almost sweeping cheekbones.  
  
He took a moment to consider the truth: that he was at a complete loss. If he burned the wireless, Ron would simply replace it with another, or not spend time at his house. If he brought up the subject of Ron not listening to the Quidditch and not tormenting himself, he would simply get his head bitten off. There was nothing that Severus could do to make it better, and he hated how he had grown into a man who hated himself for that.  
  
Staring at Ron, he knew that the redhead had ruined him. Never before had he ever cared enough about a person to allow them into his home who actually wanted to be there. Never before had he embraced that presence with such warmth, or contentment. Never before had he come so close to taking further steps to procuring their furthered happiness.  
  
 _Move in, marry me, let's father a dog together..._  
  
Severus laughed dryly at himself in his head.  
  
“Stop staring at me,” Ron groused beneath his breath.  
“I'm not,” Severus whispered.  
  
Ron turned and met his gaze. Severus assessed his young face and wondered what he always wondered -how on earth they had ever come together.  
  
It wasn't a particularly special story, a tale of being forced to work together to repair Hogwarts, of using Severus' knowledge of the Death Eater locations to root out the last of the loyal followers. Time, it seemed, was all it had taken, to bring two former enemies so closely together that one could not imagine life without the other.  
  
 _Not that you know if he feels that way about you..._  
  
Severus swallowed and broke the connection, looking down at the upholstery stretching the gap between them.  
  
He said nothing as Ron's slim body shifted along and leant into him, transferring warmth between their bodies. Severus loosened his limbs and wrapped his arms around Ron, pulling him closer. Ron wriggled until he had completely turned, his back pressing into Severus and his feet pressing against the arm of the chair. Severus moved to accommodate him, never releasing his grip. He put his face to Ron's hair and inhaled.  
  
There was a little groan of pleasure from Ron and Severus smiled. He kissed the softness beneath his lips. He moved his hand to slide it up and down a bare forearm. He felt scars beneath his fingertips, the remnants of an injury long since past, scars earnt more than ten years before. He traced one with his index finger and Ron shivered against him.  
  
“Everything I do,” Ron whispered, “I fuck up. I always fuck it up, Severus. I played keeper for my favourite team in the world, I got injured. I tried being an Auror, I got the sack for being too high profile.”  
“So did Harry,” Severus pointed out.  
  
Ron just shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.  
  
“I fucked up during the war too, when I was at school... in _everything._ ” The last word was tremulous.  
“You're too hard on yourself,” Severus commented quietly.  
  
They'd had this conversation before. Several times. Ron chose not to reply and simply snuggled further backwards into Severus' embrace, turning his head to nuzzle his cheek into a bony shoulder.  
  
“What am I going to do with you?” Severus asked. “This is not your fault. You're not useless.”  
“I can remember a time when all you ever did was criticise me. You thought I was a piece of shit and I am. Fucking useless turd.”  
  
“Shut up.” Severus honed his voice into a hissed and tightened his arms into a painful grip around Ron's torso. “I'm not spending a second further with you talking about yourself like that.”  
“I'll go then,” Ron said simply.  
  
He struggled out of Severus' grip to his feet. He wobbled on his unsteady leg but straightened, pain etched in his expression.  
  
“Where will you go?” Severus asked, unsure of what was driving him as he jumped to his own feet. “Back to your empty flat to wallow?”  
“Pretty much.” Ron shrugged. “Everyone seems to think that's a bad thing. None of you have fucking let me breathe since it happened. None of you have given me one moment to fucking grieve over what I've lost. Don't any of you fucking get it?”  
  
Colour spread into Ron's cheeks as he spoke, his voice growing louder with every word. It took a split second for his composure to go and for his face to disappear into his hands. Severus went to him, placing a hand on each of the man's shoulders. He kissed the backs of Ron's fingers, opening his mouth so that the tacks were warm and wet and made resounding smooches in the silence. He continued until Ron allowed his digits to spread and stared out at Severus with pained but dry eyes.  
  
“If we kept you busy, it was only ever to stop you from beating yourself with a sack of stones, Ron,” he breathed. “Everyone knew what would happen, nobody wanted you to get so low that you wouldn't be able to get yourself back up again. I've tried to be here for you whenever you needed me, whether you wanted me or not... and that includes this second. If you think I'm letting you walk out of here, limping and in a state, you truly are the idiot I thought you at school.”  
“Ouch,” Ron said weakly.  
  
Severus said nothing and slid his hands round to Ron's back. He kissed his forehead.  
  
“I want you to stay with me,” Severus said.  
“I already am.” Ron frowned.  
“No, I mean... indefinitely. With a key. In my house.”  
  
Throat dry, he waited for any kind of response from Ron. He found himself disappointed when nothing came. He stood like a fool, imploring with his eyes for any indication of what the man was thinking.  
  
“You don't need to look after me out of pity,” Ron muttered finally, looking down at his feet. “You don't need to do that.”  
“Pity doesn't come into it. At all. I want you to move in with me and... for this relationship to go further.”  
“Why?”  
“You know why, Ron.” Severus shook his head. He wasn't going to allow the man to wring every last ounce of emotion out of him. He felt like he was clinging to his last cards in a game of mystery.  
  
The kiss, when it came, was open-mouthed and hot. Ron tasted unpleasant; Severus guessed that he had not bothered to brush his teeth that morning, nor wash, if his greasy hair and nose was anything to go by.  
  
 _And yet, I still want him._  
  
Ron leant into him, working his jaw hard against Severus' mouth to the point where they both breathed hard through their noses, sounding ridiculous in the quiet room. When they broke apart, Severus felt spit on his lips which was not his own.  
  
“You want me to move in,” Ron said, hoarsely.  
“I want you to love me,” Severus dared. “I want-”  
  
He didn't get out what else he wanted as Ron kissed him again, more forcefully, with his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Severus' neck. The grip was painful, but he didn't complain.  
  
“I already love you, you pillock,” Ron muttered. “You're the only reason I get out of fucking bed in the morning.”  
  
 _fin_


End file.
